


Quartering Winds

by tanktrilby



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Case Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-08 12:55:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3209948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanktrilby/pseuds/tanktrilby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an influential businessman is found dead at his desk in his impenetrable apartment, Inspector Kuroko Tetsuya is called in before the verdict of suicide is officially given. What Kuroko finds is evidence of a cold, calculated murder, and a village full of suspects.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quartering Winds

**Author's Note:**

> Changed the title because it was too spoilery, ehehe. Please forgive the many inaccuracies, Google and I did our best.

Sakurai Ryou dug his nails into his palms and tried not to look too noticeable as a family huffed past, dragging a clan of black suitcases in their wake. He was one of the smattering of people left in the station, and the second-to-last train had come and gone with no sign of his passenger.

He sweated. He hadn’t been prepared for any of this, when he transferred here— for the brief and unhelpful commands of the Superintendent, for _today,_ for Inspector Aomine tossing the keys to the police car and winking, as if that explained anything. Sakurai had nearly had a panic attack before someone at the help desk noticed and pushed a map his way. The next hour had been nerve-wracking, as the Sakurai navigated the snowy roads and managed to drive himself into a series of private lands despite obsessively checking the map, before he finally managed to make it to the train station. The only reason he wasn’t horribly late was because every train had been delayed by the snowstorms.

All to wait for some guest who hadn’t even been on the train in the first place.

Sakurai sighed a cloud of mist and stood up. It was late, and he was cold; whoever Aomine-san sent him to get wasn’t coming.

He checked the name on the piece of paper. “Inspector Kuroko Tetsuya, huh.”

“Yes,” said a voice.

The back of his neck prickled. Sakurai lost his balance, reeling wildly and stared, wide-eyed, at the man standing in front of him _who definitely hadn’t been there a millisecond ago._

“When- how—”

“You must be a colleague of Aomine-kun’s,” said the stranger, bowing a head of messy blue hair. “Thank you very much for coming to pick me up.”

“I—yes,” Sakurai said faintly. He blinked a few times, rapidly, and finally snapped a jerky salute.

“Um. Yes. My name’s Sakurai Ryou, it’s good to meet you. Sorry,” he added honestly, “you took me by surprise. Um, sorry.”

He received the impression of a smile. “I apologize. It was unintentional.”

The stranger- Kuroko- was clutching the handle of a clunky black suitcase, and Sakurai saw that his knuckles had turned red from cold. Upon further inspection, Kuroko also seemed to be shivering faintly, and Sakurai sniffed in sympathy. He wasn’t used to the weather either.

“You’re cold,” he said abruptly, and tripped over his words as he apologized. “I mean, I’m sorry, let’s go.”

Kuroko pulled the lower half of his face out of his scarf like a turtle emerging from its shell.

“That would be agreeable, yes.”

Sakurai winced and turned around, marching across the station stiffly. He wondered if he should make conversation- about the trip, the weather. The man he was escorting was probably very important, from the way the Superintendant patted his back and told him to do his best. There were rumors, too- _that_ case was on the top of everyone’s thoughts these days, and the police receiving a new addition just a week after was probably connected.

Sakurai caught a glimpse of the TV before they came to the exits. “Oh,” he mumbled.

“I beg your pardon?”

Again, Sakurai practically fell over. It wasn’t that Kuroko didn’t make much noise, but he’d managed to forget he was there completely. “Sorry!” Sakurai said reflexively. “I mean, um. You were lucky, that was the last train coming here for a while.” He nodded at the screen, where the news broadcast was still playing.

“Inbound and outbound train services suspended for an indefinite period because of snow,” Kuroko read quietly. “Tell me, Sakurai-kun, are the roads in this area particularly good?”

Sakurai shook his head, vehement.

“And public transport?”

“There’s a bus that’s supposed to stop in the Square every hour,” Sakurai offered. “Haven’t seen it in a while, though. Sorry.”

Kuroko nodded.

“I see.”

“Sorry,” Sakurai said again. “The car’s parked a little way away. Sorry.”

Kuroko’s placid expression turned grim. He tucked his face back into his scarf with an air of determination. “Lead the way, Sakurai-kun,” he said in a muffled voice, and feeling vaguely miserable, Sakurai did.

 

 

 

Kuroko waited until an apologetic Sakurai had retreated from the office to turn, displeased, toward Aomine.

“I don’t see why they can’t brief me today,” he said, and scowled when Aomine guffawed. “The weather is not enough of a hindrance for you to coddle me, Aomine-kun.”

“Right, sure,” Aomine said cheerfully. “Nobody’s coddling you. Though, it was seriously funny seeing you come in, how many layers are you wearing?” He grinned, reaching out to ruffle Kuroko’s hair. Kuroko dodged and kept staring until Aomine half-chuckled, half-sighed. 

“Ah, Tetsu, there’s been a bit of a cock-up, okay? We didn’t know the old AI was out of commission until you called to tell us you were coming instead.”

Kuroko said, “I apologize. It was very short notice for me, too. Murasakibara-kun’s injury came as a surprise to the division.”

Aomine shrugged, slumping into his chair. “Don’t sweat it, we’re fine. It’s not like you’ll have to do any field work anyway, you’re just here for a second opinion,” he said through a yawn.

 Kuroko eyed him, then the warzone that was his personal desk - the haphazardly strewn papers and files, and enthroned in the middle, an absurd pink paper weight. He smiled.

“How is Momoi-san?” he asked, and Aomine opened one eye to peer at him distrustfully.

“Satsuki? Why do you ask?” When Kuroko said nothing, Aomine crossed his arms. “Oi, Tetsu. Don’t make her get all… _clingy,_ like last time. It’s a serious pain. I don’t have to listen to that shit.”

“Does that mean she lives here, too?”

“Eh? ‘Course she does.”

He pulled himself to his feet with a gusty sigh.

“C’mon, I’d better drop you off at your place before Wakamatsu shows to bust out asses.”

“Does that mean I’m not staying at the officers’ living quarters?”

Aomine fidgeted.

“About that. The dorms only accommodate like ten people, hardly any of the officers live there. All the newbies have to get their own places. Don’t worry, Tetsu, I asked a buddy to shove over and make room for you at his apartment, so you’re all set.”

“Wait,” Kuroko said, halting completely. “Aomine-kun, are you saying that I’ll be imposing on someone’s home because you forced them to?” He added as an afterthought, “Is it Sakurai-kun?”

“What? No, don’t be ridiculous. Ryou lives with his sister and her brats, that’d be weird.”

Aomine picked up Kuroko’s giant bag smoothly, easily, and Kuroko tried not to let his annoyance show.

“It’s a two-bedroom apartment and all that space was going to was going to waste anyway, so I told him I’d be burrowing it. It’s insanely hard finding places to stay in this shithole, you know.”

He walked off, whistling. Kuroko, resigned, cold and exhausted, followed.

 

 

The apartment complex Kuroko was to stay at was well-kept, old without being worn. He gave the outside a swift appraising glance before following Aomine out of the car. ‘Apartment complex’ was actually too industrial a term, and could offer no hint of what it actually was- a sprawling traditional mansion nestled in the back of a snowy garden, with neat little boxes of cleared parking spaces, ten to a row.

Once inside, Kuroko blinked. Aomine caught his expression and chuckled, saying, “Takes you by surprise, doesn’t it? I heard the current owner of the place brought it up to date, which basically means he fitted massive TVs everywhere he could.”

The whole thing struck Kuroko as carefully contrived— the disconnect between the rigidly old-fashioned exterior and the explosion of sleek technology within. The wooden floors and ceiling, the opaque sliding doors, were all in natural juxtaposition with the mirror-and-glass paneling. When the lift arrived, they got in and Kuroko marveled again the discreet and ruthless _modernity_ of it.

“It’s an interesting place,” he said softly.

Aomine slid him a wary glance.

“Tetsu, you’re off duty. No need to make it sound sinister.”

Kuroko inclined his head.

The lift stopped on the second floor and Aomine got out first, still holding Kuroko’s bag like it weighed nothing. There were six doors in whole, the numbers running from nine to fifteen, and Aomine knocked sharply on the door marked twelve.

“If he’s asleep, I swear I’m gonna punch him,” Aomine grumbled, increasing the pace of his knocking until the door thudded back irritably and slid open.

“Aomine, what the hell,” snapped an angry-looking redheaded man, emerging from the apartment to glower at Aomine’s smirking face. Kuroko tried not to flinch- he was _tall,_ and almost as big as Aomine, and seemed not particularly pleased by the way Aomine was playing jump-rope with his nerves.

Aomine, for his part, was being gleefully obnoxious.

“C’mon, Kagami, it’s not like I’m interrupting anything. You should be glad that I come by at all, saves you from having to talk to your toaster for com- oomph, _fuck._ ”

Kuroko dislodged his fist from Aomine’s ribs.

“Please excuse him,” he told the man.

The stranger, for his part, flinched bodily, eyes going very wide as they focused on Kuroko.  “Holy— when did you get there?”

Kuroko looked up at him. The naked shock was oddly reassuring. “I was here the whole time.”

Aomine finally stopped cursing long enough to affect an introduction. “Heh, better get used to it, Kagami. This guy’s gonna be your roommate for the next month.”

Kuroko watched Kagami’s expression with a touch of apprehension. It would be very like Aomine to not tell him until Kuroko showed up, bags in hand.

“Oh, right.” To his relief, Kagami turned to Kuroko and gave him a nod. “Yo. The name’s Kagami. Good to meet you.”

Kuroko bowed.

“Kuroko Tetsuya. Thank you for agreeing to let me stay with you.”

Aomine shouldered Kagami aside carelessly and barreled into the apartment. Kagami rolled his eyes and gestured for Kuroko to follow. “Uwah, this place gets more depressing every time I see it. Good thing I brought Tetsu along.” He dumped Kuroko’s bag in the middle of the room.

Kuroko eyed the sparse décor thankfully. On a shelf in the corner, he caught sight of a stack of basketball magazines and suddenly a few things clicked into place.

He turned back to Aomine to find him already zipping his coat back up.

“You’re leaving?” Kagami asked in evident surprise.

 Aomine shrugged.

“Shift’s not done yet, and I promised Satsuki I’d meet her for dinner.”

Kuroko nodded. Kagami was making incredulous faces and unsubtly herding him out of the apartment, and it was an effort not to smile.

“Thank you for bringing me over, Aomine-kun.”

“See ya,” Aomine said. “Kagami, be nice to Tetsu, ‘kay? He’s here on invitation and all.”

“ _Your_ invitation, and you called to tell me- you know what, never mind.” Kagami shut the door on his smirk and groaned.

In the ensuing silence Kuroko cleared his throat. “Again, I’m sorry for the intrusion. This has to be very inconvenient for you.”

Kagami turned towards him and shrugged. His eyes were, Kuroko noticed, an unusual rich burgundy, and his gaze was frank and contemplative.

“It’s no big deal,” he said. “C’mon, I’ll show you your room.”

 

 

 

After taking a wonderful hot bath and unpacking halfway, Kuroko wandered out of his room and followed the delicious smell to the kitchen.

Like everything else in the complex, the kitchen was designed for an impression of an abundance of light and space. The fittings all had a shiny newness to them that had begun to seem almost jarring. In contrast, Kagami, who was tossing something in a gigantic frying pan, looked comfortingly human.

Kuroko took a few steps forward to peer at the pan. “Kagami-kun, you cook?”

Only a combination of reflexes, experience and instinct saved the stir-fry when Kagami yelled and dropped everything he was holding.  Kuroko stalked off to rinse the fork and chopsticks while Kagami glared holes in his head.

“I apologize, Kagami-kun,” he said, and Kagami clicked his tongue.

“Do people ever get used to that?” Kagami asked, tossing the contents of the pan with an elegant flick of the wrist. He gestured at Kuroko, indicating Kuroko’s Kuroko-ness. “You popping up like that.”

“Very rarely,” Kuroko said seriously. “Overexposure seems to be key, though I can’t be sure.”

Kagami side-eyed him. “Must be useful for your job, huh?” He gazed down contemplatively at his pan, and fiddled a little with the settings on the oven, thus missing the way Kuroko gaped at him. “I mean, you can go around collecting evidence and stuff and nobody would notice. And you could totally catch criminals before they commit their next crime by just hanging around once you know where it’ll be.”

“Kagami-kun,” Kuroko said, lips lifting, “that’s quite the sensationalist imagination you have.”

Kagami colored.

“Watch it,” he growled, flicking Kuroko’s ear, and Kuroko shimmered away from further abuse. “Argh, you’re as bad as Aomine. You’d think all that bastard ever did was nap at his desk and do paperwork.”

“Police work isn’t as glamorous as it’s often portrayed,” Kuroko said. “It’s mostly signing papers and patrolling.”

“Huh,” Kagami took the pan off the fire and moved towards the table. Kuroko carried the plates over, and Kagami mumbled his thanks. “Then again, I’ve no room to talk, I guess. The most dramatic thing to happen at work this week was when some asshole cat got stuck in a tree and the ladder wasn’t working.”

 Kuroko ticked a box in his head. “You’re a firefighter, Kagami-kun?”

“Yep.”

They sat facing each other on the table. Kuroko murmured an _itadakimasu._ Kagami said, “Eat up.”

Kuroko did, appreciatively, though what he thought was an ambitious serving only made Kagami eye him dubiously and ask of he’d already eaten. He got over the shock of seeing how much Kagami, in turn, was able to pile onto his plate when he took his first bite - the cooking was excellent, not to mention the first decent home-cooked meal Kuroko’d had in years.

He wondered if Kagami had ever tried his hand at milkshakes.

“You can’t complain of being bored here, though,” Kagami said between mouthfuls. “They called you in to deal with that Nakamura case, right?”

Kuroko looked up at him.

“What?”

“Aomine-kun told me he’d brief me tomorrow, so officially, I know nothing yet,” Kuroko said lightly. Kagami’s eyes widened. “But I can’t imagine that there’s another case in this area that the local police would need consultation on.” He exhaled softly. “What do you think, Kagami-kun?”

After a pause, Kagami snorted.

“Yeah, you’ve got a point there. And like I said, this town’s so sleepy hardly anything happens, so what’re the odds, right?” He clicked his chopsticks together. “As far as I know, they’re about to rule it as suicide. Not enough evidence to be called a murder. Or something like that, anyway.” 

 “And this was the building he lived in?” For a moment, Kagami looked badly startled. He relaxed when Kuroko clarified, “I saw pictures on the papers. I might be mistaken.”

“Nah, you’re right,” Kagami said with a grin. “Guess it got pretty famous, huh.”

“Nakamura Subaru was an influential and widely-recognized businessman,” Kuroko said. “Most national newspapers ran articles about his untimely death.”

Kagami stood up abruptly. Kuroko’s eyes widened, but all his new housemate did was gather up the plates and dishes.

“Yeah, well, he did live here. He was in number 4, I think. That’s on the floor right below this one.”

“I see. Did you see him regularly?”

Kagami shrugged.

“Nah, not really. Sometimes I’d hold the lift for him, but I’ve no idea what he’s like.”

“Thank you very much for answering my questions,” Kuroko said seriously. “And for the meal. It was delicious. I am in your debt, Kagami-kun.”

Kagami stared at him for a long moment. Then, visibly, his eyebrow twitched.

“You know, I’m still not really sure if you’re a robot or not.”

“That’s mean, Kagami-kun,” Kuroko said with a perfectly straight face. “I even refrained from mentioning your food-vacuuming properties.”

“Just drink some water and go to sleep,” Kagami growled. There was no animosity in his tone. In fact, Kuroko suspected he might be grinning, just a little. “You have to go fight crime early tomorrow morning with Aomine.”

“Good night, Kagami-kun.”

“Yeah, yeah.”


End file.
